Aria's POV The sun was fully over the horizon when we finally walked out from behind the waterfall. Aiden carried our son tucked against his bare chest, wrapped in his leather cloak. I leaned heavily on my father, the King, and my mother, Kira. My legs felt like jelly, and every step was a struggle, but the heavy, pulling pain in my gut was gone. Aiden stopped by the edge of the river. He looked down at the baby, and then at me. His gray eyes were clear now, the fog from the spell completely washed away. "He looks like you when he frowns," Aiden said. A small, tired smile pulled at his lips. "He has your nose," I replied, reaching out to touch the baby’s tiny, sleeping face. "And your stubbornness. He didn't want to wait for a bed." My father cleared his throat. He looked at the three of us, his hand still resting on his sword hilt. The gold on his armor was dented and scratched. He looked less like a king and more like a man who had just realized he had almost lost
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